


Friday I’m in love

by morereese



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Crying Richie Tozier, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Friday I’m in love, Gay Disaster Richie Tozier, Gay Richie Tozier, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is Whipped, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Sad Gay Richie Tozier, The Cure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morereese/pseuds/morereese
Summary: “Why are you crying?” He repeated again, a little more firmly, but still gentle, open, completely Eddie.“I don’t know, Eds. Can I not cry?” Richie said, looking away, wrists still clutched in Eddie’s hands.“Don’t do that, Rich. You know I hate seeing you cry. I want you to talk to me, you know? I’m here for you,”You’re the reason i’m crying, Richie wanted to say, even though it wasn’t Eddie’s fault that Richie felt this way. Or maybe it was, or maybe it wasn’t.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 116





	Friday I’m in love

It was raining, but of course Richie couldn’t hear it. The only thing he could hear was The Cure, thrumming through his headphones. He made a mixtape a while ago with just The Cure on it, because they were his favorite band.

Mostly, their songs made him think about Eddie; and Eddie he was thinking about.

His Eddie. That sweet, sweet boy that lived down the block, who deserved nothing less than the whole world, and took Richie’s heart and ran with it.

He’d fallen in love with him years ago. He loved him, even when he didn’t know, even when he didn’t recognize that it was love. He’d guessed he’d felt that way because Eddie was his best friend, but then seventh grade rolled around, and Richie started thinking about that sweet boy more and more. He laid in bed at night and thought about him, was the first thing he thought about in the morning, thought about holding his hand when they hung out together, thought about kissing him, holding him, making him his and keeping him all to himself because Eddie was just too precious to let go.

Of course that must sound selfish, but Eddie was - well… Eddie. How could Richie not be selfish with him?

He loved him.

_I don’t care if Monday’s blue_

_Tuesday’s grey and Wednesday, too_

_Thursday, I don’t care about you_

_It’s Friday, I’m in love_

He couldn’t stop the tears, no. The tears just came when he thought about his dear sweet Eddie. They were probably soaking his headphones, but he couldn’t care. Seventeen and already crying over pretty boys. 

He felt so empty, so lost, but so in love with that boy. That boy.

Little Eddie Kaspbrak, who scraped his knee on the playground in kindergarten and laughed about it after, showing the blood dripping down his leg to Richie like it was a trophy, blood that caused Richie to faint. Little Eddie Kaspbrak, who stood up to his mother, turned his nose up at her when she told him that he couldn’t leave the house, walked right out the door and over to Richie’s house, where he cried on Richie’s shoulder about how horrible of a son he thought he was.

But little Eddie Kaspbrak wasn’t so little anymore, no. Eddie Kaspbrak had grown strong, even when his mother taught him to fear, to fear everything. He no longer cowered under her, no longer held his tongue when she spoke to him.

Eddie Kaspbrak was strong, and brave, not so little anymore, and Richie was in love with him.

_Monday you can fall apart_

_Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart_

_Oh, Thursday doesn't even start_

_It's Friday, I'm in love_

He loved him, but he couldn’t have him.

He couldn’t have him, because strong, brave, and not so little anymore Eddie Kaspbrak would never love him back - would never even dream of it. Because while Eddie Kaspbrak was sweet, but tough, shy, but bold; Richie Tozier wouldn’t even dream of trying to match anything that Eddie Kaspbrak was, to be good enough for him. He knew he couldn’t, because Eddie Kaspbrak was wonderful - better than wonderful. He was the light of Richie’s life, the stars in his sky, the apple of his eye, the love of his life. There would never be another person to squeeze themself into Richie’s life and place their gentle hands on Richie’s heart and write _mine, mine, mine_ all over it. There would never be another person like Eddie Kaspbrak.

_Saturday, wait_

_And Sunday always comes too late_

_But Friday, never hesitate_

He closed his eyes, tired of staring up at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling through tears. He just wished Eddie loved him back. He wanted to make Eddie his so bad, itched for it, ached for it, _burned for it_. There was a fire burning deep inside him, and he hated it. He didn’t want to feel this way, not about Eddie Kaspbrak, his best friend since kindergarten. Why couldn’t he have just been given a normal life? Where he met an average looking girl with an average GPA in high school and married her right after, settled down in his early twenties and had kids.

He didn’t want that. He wanted a life with Eddie, a life where Eddie could love him back, feel that same burning inside him; where they could leave Derry, go do big things with their lives and buy a small house together, maybe a few pets, get engaged, married, have kids of their own and just be _happy._ Live happily ever after.

He knew that would never happen.

_I don't care if Monday's black_

_Tuesday, Wednesday, heart attack_

_Thursday, never looking back_

_It's Friday, I'm in love_

He covered his mouth to suppress a loud sob, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter because _fuck,_ he was hurting. He was _hurting._

Something touched his arm, and he gasped and flinched away from it, opening his eyes to find Eddie Kaspbrak staring down at him with worried eyes, soaking wet, hand outstretched where it’d touched Richie’s arm.

Richie immediately threw his headphones off and took his glasses off to wipe the tears away from his face.

“What are you doing here, Eds?” He asked.

“Why are you crying?” Eddie didn’t answer his question, just asked his own.

Richie shrugged and pulled his hands away from his face, but more tears came in behind the ones he wiped away, so he returned them with a laugh. Eddie pulled his hands away from his face, looking him directly in the eye and giving him that look, that look that meant he wanted to know what was going on.

“Why are you crying?” He repeated again, a little more firmly, but still gentle, open, completely Eddie.

“I don’t know, Eds. Can I not cry?” Richie said, looking away, wrists still clutched in Eddie’s hands.

“Don’t do that, Rich. You know I hate seeing you cry. I want you to talk to me, you know? I’m here for you,” 

_You’re the reason i’m crying_ , Richie wanted to say, even though it wasn’t Eddie’s fault that Richie felt this way. Or maybe it was, or maybe it wasn’t.

Who told Eddie Kaspbrak to be so goddamned pretty, anyway?

“You should change into some different clothes,” Richie said, changing the subject, because he really didn’t want to talk about this.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie pulled away to go over to Richie’s dresser and pulled out some boxers to wear, grabbing one of Richie’s tee shirts.

He pulled his jacket off and tugged his shirt over his head. The shirt clung to his skin, protesting, refusing to let go, but Eddie got it off eventually.

He was gorgeous, lost all his baby fat sophomore year of high school, shoulders a little broader, and there was a trail of hair that let down into his pants.

Richie looked away, red in the face, trying to keep his breathing steady because he hoped he hadn’t been caught checking him out.

“Usually you’d tell me I look sexy,” Eddie said, his voice hitting Richie’s eardrums and making his entire body flush, turning to him with wide eyes. “What? Don’t look at me like that. Tell me I look sexy,”

 _Jesus christ, Eds_ , Richie thought, bringing his fingers up to his lips to chew his nails.

“Don’t you think that’s weird?” He asked, and Eddie shook his head and shrugged.

“Nah. Why would it be weird?”

 _Because I'm calling you sexy,_ Richie thought, _that’s why._

“I don’t know,” Richie mumbled, turning away as Eddie unzipped his jeans. Richie heard him slide them down, resisting the urge to look at him.

Oh, god. Eddie Kaspbrak was stripping in his room, and it seemed to be taking ages, but it might’ve just been Richie.

He hid under his duvet whenever he heard Eddie begin to slide his boxers down, blushing even harder, fields of roses blooming across his face, neck, and chest. Eddie always wore the cutest undies, and Richie couldn’t take his mind off of them. His mind was begging him to just take a look, just a little peek, but his conscious was telling him that that was a bad idea, that he’d seem perverted.

He felt Eddie slide into bed next to him, hands blindly finding his face under the covers, stroking his cheekbone slowly, softly. Eddie pulled the duvet down, revealing Richie’s face, smiling softly.

“Hey, there,” Eddie said, and Richie could feel himself fall in love with him again. That voice, so sweet, so smooth. That honey voice that Richie loved, wanted to keep for himself, just listen to him speak on repeat, saying the phrases Richie loved the most.

“H- hi,” He stammered, the one word getting stuck on his tongue with Eddie in his presence.

“What’s wrong? Why are you sad, Rich?”

Richie had _just_ stopped his crying, but the sound of Eddie’s voice asking him what was wrong made him start, again. He wanted to kiss the mouth that that sweet voice came from so _bad_.

He wanted to feel Eddie’s lips on his, slide a thumb across his bottom lip and pull his lips apart so Richie could slide his tongue in, taste all of what Eddie had to offer. He wanted to _taste_ Eddie, taste his words, all the noises he made. Everything.

“Don’t cry,” Eddie said, wiping the tears away from Richie’s cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” Richie whispered, trying to stop his crying.

There was an angel in front of him. An angel by the name of Eddie Kaspbrak who crawled through Richie’s window at only god knows what time in the morning, who told Richie to call him sexy and just laughed about it after, who wiped Richie’s tears and told him softly in that honey voice not to cry.

“Just talk to me, Rich. I’m here, yeah? I’m here,” 

Something was telling Richie to pull away, to get Eddie to stop touching him, because he needed so badly to stop this fire burning inside him.

But the way Eddie held his face, thumb swiping away every tear that fell, smiling at him softly, letting him know that he was here, that he was here for Richie. His touch was so soft, like Richie was delicate porcelain, and he had to be careful with him.

Richie really wanted to kiss him.

“You ready to talk?” Eddie asked, and Richie shrugged.

How was he supposed to tell Eddie that he was crying over him? He couldn’t do that. Eddie wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore, and even if he couldn’t have his love, he at least wanted Eddie to be his best friend.

“Do you ever feel like you’re lost, or… or empty without someone. Like, they’re your other half,” Richie said, and Eddie just looked at him with curious eyes.

Eddie nodded slowly.

Eddie has a crush on someone?

Well, there goes Richie’s very small chance.

Richie could feel jealousy stir in the pit of his stomach. Whoever it was that could steal the heart of Eddie Kaspbrak was a lucky motherfucker. It’s not like Richie had attempted in the past. He just tried to act as normal around Eddie as possible, as to not run him away, because he didn’t think he could live without him.

“You have a crush on someone?” Richie asked.

“Do you?” Eddie countered, raising his eyebrows.

“I asked you first,”

Eddie sighed and smiled, just the corners of his lips pulling up. “Maybe,” he said, “but I doubt they’ll like me back.”

“Who wouldn’t like _you_ back, Eds?”

Eddie didn’t say anything, just held eye contact with Richie until Richie grew uncomfortable and looked away, squirming a bit because, _why the fuck is he looking at me like that?_

“Is that why you were crying? Because you like someone?” Eddie asked, and Richie hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Oh,” Eddie said, but it didn’t sound like just any other normal _oh,_ no. He sounded… _disappointed?_ Disappointed that Richie had a crush?

“Yeah, but he’ll never like me back, anyway, so.”

 _He,_ Richie realized, _shit._

“He?” Eddie said, eyebrows pulling together.

“I said it wrong,”

“Richie. You have a crush on a boy?”

Richie began to cry again, turning over because how could he possibly allow himself to make this big of a mistake. He could feel Eddie slide an arm around his waist, pressing his chest against Richie’s back and fitting his body against his.

He needed Eddie off. He needed Eddie to go away so maybe he had a chance of getting over him.

“It’s okay,” Eddie spoke in his ear, softly, making Richie’s stomach flip, his toes curling because Eddie’s breath was hitting his skin and making him hot all over. “It’s okay, Rich.”

“No, it’s not. I’m gross,” Richie protested, shaking his head.

“You’re not gross. There’s nothing wrong with liking boys,”

“Everyone else seems to think so,”

“There’s nothing wrong with it. Nothing at all.” Eddie’s voice was still soft, but strong. “Because… because—“

Richie could hear Eddie take a deep breath.

“Look at me, Richie,” Eddie said, pulling away so Richie could turn around. “I - I like boys. Look at me. There’s nothing wrong with me. Look at you. There’s nothing wrong with you. We’re both completely fine; we’re not gross.”

Eddie was so strong.

“You like boys, too?” Richie asked, and Eddie smiled softly and nodded.

“Not just any boy,” He mumbled, “I like you, Rich. And I thought that maybe you liked me, too, because you always call me cute, pinch my cheeks, and tell me i’m the prettiest boy in the world, but - but I guess not.”

 _Eddie likes me,_ Richie thought.

“No, no, no. I _do_ like you. I like you _so much._ You’re who I was talking about, earlier.”

“So, you were crying over me?” Eddie asked, cupping Richie’s cheek. “I don’t wanna be the reason you cry at night.”

“I thought you’d never like me back,” Richie said, his hand landing on top of the one Eddie was cupping his cheek with.

“How could I not like you, Richie Tozier?”

Eddie came a little closer, so close they were sharing air, and Richie thought for a moment Eddie was going to kiss him. Instead, Eddie’s lips went to Richie’s neck, warm, soft lips pressing to his skin, firm but feather-light. Richie had never been kissed there before, had never been kissed anywhere before.

His breathing picked up, lips parting to gasp when Eddie’s tongue darted out right over his pulse point.

“Eds…” He whispered, and Eddie moved away, kissing his jawline a few times before pressing his lips to his cheek. His lips brushed Richie’s cheekbone, and then pressed to his forehead, and then his other cheek.

A blush followed Eddie’s lips, spreading all across his skin. It was hot in the room, or maybe it was just him. He couldn’t tell.

He felt Eddie’s lips brush his, and he gasped softly, forcing his eyes to stay closed. Eddie’s hand held the side of Richie’s neck, ready to pull him in at any moment.

“Rich…” Eddie whispered, his breath hitting Richie’s lips. “Rich. Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Richie answered, and Eddie brought their lips together.

It was a lot different than Richie thought it was going to be. Eddie’s mouth was warm, and he kissed him slow and soft, not like how people did in the movies. Eddie was careful with him, made sure not to go too fast, thumb stroking his jawline softly.

Richie hesitantly put his hand on Eddie’s waist, squeezing softly. Eddie came a little closer, throwing his leg over Richie’s hip, tugging him even closer, until their chests were pressed together.

Eddie was kissing Richie like he was starving for it, deepening the kiss from the soft movement of lips he was going with earlier. He slid his fingers into Richie’s hair, tugged softly and made Richie make a noise he didn’t know he could make. Eddie made one right after, except it was a lot more higher pitched than Richie’s. It surprised him, Eddie making a noise like that, made him burn all over, made him want to hear more.

Eddie dipped his tongue into Richie’s mouth, and Richie gasped, pulling away.

“Too much?” Eddie asked, and Richie shook his head slowly.

“Just new,”

“Oh, yeah. That was your first kiss,” Eddie smiled smugly and Richie scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Aw, baby had his first kiss.”

“Shut up,” Richie mumbled, and Eddie pecked his lips, and then again, and again. Richie could feel himself falling even more. “Who was your first kiss?”

“You know Pete Lawson?” Eddie asked, and Richie shook his head. “Pretty big, sweet, football player. He’s in your World History class.”

“Nope,” Richie said, no recollection of a pretty big, sweet, football player named Pete Lawson.

“Anyways,” Eddie continued, “He caught me in the bathroom once, called me pretty, told me to meet him behind the school after all our classes. You know, he held my hips, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was pretty cliche, a decent kiss. Yours was better, though.”

“Even if i’ve never had any experience?” Richie asked, and Eddie laughed softly.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I was twelve, Trashmouth. Of course,” Eddie said, finally, and kissed Richie again.  
  
  
  
  



End file.
